WHEN I WAS A LITTLE KID, my grandfather called me ‘Butch.’ I have no idea where that came from, though I suspect that it was simply his version of ‘Buddy.’ Lots of people have nicknames, and for lots of reasons. It may be complimentary (Hotshot Harry Smith), or pejorative (Lazy Lucy Brown), or it may originate from some unique physical trait (Red McGuire, Pugnose Petrocelli). A nickname may stem from a physical deformity (Scarface Capone, Four Fingers Avery). Sometimes nicknames reflect a notable achievement or talent, although there is another name for that: sobriquet (the Great Commoner, the Last of the Red Hot Mamas, the Voice, the Great Emancipator). [How many of you can ID the persons to whom these four sobriquets belong?] Sports figures often achieve nicknames through their abilities on the field (Elroy ‘Crazy Legs’ Hirsch, Slammin’ Sammy Snead). The simplest, most common nicknames are derived from the given name: Dick for Richard, Betty for Elizabeth, Peggy for Margaret, Jack for John. Most people accept their nicknames with grace, but others don’t. I once dated a girl who wanted to know if it was okay if she called me Hank. “Hank sounds stronger,” she insisted, snuggling up to me in the car. “I don’t like it,” was my terse response. After she tried it again, I took her home and that was the end of it.
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